THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/cotterssaturdaynOOburn 


THE  COTTER'S  SATURDAY  NIGHT. 


ROBERT  BURNS. A    } 
With  illubUatioiis^*' 

DRAWN  BY    F.A.CHAPMAN.         ENGRAVED  BY  J.  FILMER. 

PHILADELPHIA: 
PORTER    &    COATES. 


^3  0^ 

Al 
1^71 


PUHLISHEKS'    I'KEFACE. 


Ix  ouce  more  sending  forth  to  the  world  of  happy  lionie.s.  this 
noblest  Poem  of  '"  the  greatest  Poet  that  ever  sprung  from  the 
bosom  of  the  people,"  the  Publishers  tind  their  occasion  and 
excuse — if  such  could  be  ever  needed — partly  in  the  fact,  that  it 
has  never  before  been  detached  from  the  collected  Works  of  Burns 
to  receive  those  adornments  of  Art  which  have  been  so  bounti- 
fully and  lovingly  bestowed  on  Gray's  ''  Elegy,"  Goldsmith's 
"Deserted  Village,"  Coleridge's  "Ancient  Mariner,"  Thomson's 
"  Seasons,"  and  other  kindred  treasures  of  our  English  verse  ;  but 
chiefly  in  the  cordial  enthusiasm  with  whicli  artist,  engraver, 
printer,  and  binder  have  lent  their  happiest  skill  to  present  it  in 
attire  harmonious  with  its  spiritual  beauty,  and  worthy  of  its 
essential    preciousness. 


v 


\i  I 


T(  I  n  t  Villi  in  II  111     1   th  u    is  tiil  t>il 
11.. 1.  l._i — 1\  _,,._,!,, 1  J,o..i.,,  „„o^urp, 

"Nor  Grandeur  hear,  with  a  disdainful  smile, 
The  short  but  simple  annals  of  the  Poor. 


<-^^H^^ 


^n^dfiW/!!  Y    loved,    my    lionoured,    mucli-respected 
.^nVi\  friend! 

No  mercenary  bard  his  homage  pays ; 
With  honest  pride,  I  scorn  each  selfish  end  ; 
My  dearest  meed,  a  friend's  esteem  and 
j)raise : 

To  you  I  sing,  in  simple  Scottish  lays, 
The  lowly  train  in  life's  sequestered  scene ; 
The  native  feelings  strong,  the  guileless  ways ; 
What  Aiken  in  a  cottage  would  have  been  ; 
Ah  !  though  his  wortli  unknown,  far  ha}>2>i<^i'  there,  I  ween  ! 


^November  chill  blawsloud  wi'  antrry  su<'li ; 

The  short'ning  winter-clay  is  near  a  close  ; 
The  miry  beasts  retreating  frae  the  pleugh  ; 

The  blaek'ning  trains  o'  craws  to  their  repose: 
The  toil-worn  Ct)tter  frae  his  ]al)Our  goes, 

This  night  his  weekly  moil  is  at  an  end, 
Collects  his  spades,  his  mattocks,  and  his  Vioes, 

Hoping  the  morn  in  case  aii<l   i-(^st  to  spend. 
And  weary,  o'er  the  moor,  his  course  docs  hameward  bend. 


Th"  expectaiil  uiM.--(hin>:«.  toddiin,  staclier  throucli 
To  meet  their  dad,  wi'  ^ichterin  noise  an'  gleer 


At  length  liis  lonely  cot  api^ears  in  view, 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  an  aged  tree ; 
Th'  expectant  wee-things,  toddlin,  stacher  through 

To  meet  their  dad,  wi'  flichterin  noise  an'  glee. 
His  wee  bit  ingle,  blinkin  bonnily. 

His  clean  hearth-stane,  his  thriftie  wifie's  smile, 
The  lisping  infant  prattling  on  his  knee. 

Does  a'  his  weary  carking  cares  Ijeguile, 
An'  makes  him  quite  forget  his  labour  an'  his  toil. 


Belyve,  the  elder  bairns  come  drapping  in, 

At  service  out,  aniang  the  fanners  roiin"  ; 
Some  ca'  the  pleugh,  some  herd,  some  tentie  rin 

A  cannie  errand  to  a  neebour  town  : 
Their  eldest  hope,  tlieir  Jeimy,  woman  grown. 

In  youth fu'  bloom,  love  sparkling  in  her  e'e, 
Comes  liame,  j^erhaps,  to  sliow  a  l)raw  new  gown, 

Or  deposit  her  sair-won  penn3'-lee. 
To  help  lier  parents  dear,  if  they  in  hardship  be. 


•n-ii. 


Wi'  joy  unfeigned,  brothers  and  sisters  meet, 

An'  each  for  other's  weelfare  kindly  spiers  : 
The  social  hours,  swift- winged,  unnoticed  fleet ; 

Each  tells  the  uncos  that  he  sees  or  hears ; 
The  parents,  partial,  eye  their  hopeful  years ,; 

Anticipation  forward  points  the  view. 
The  mother,  wi'  her  needle  an'  her  shears, 

Gars  auld  clacs  look  amaist  as  weel's  the  ne^  ; 
The  father  mixes  a'  wi'  admonition  due. 


^xs 


.^ 


Their  master's  an'  their  mistress's  command, 

The  3'ounkers  a'  are  warned  to  obey  ; 
An'  mind  their  labours  wi'  an  eydent  hand, 

An  ne'er,  though  out  o'  sight,  to  jaulv  or  plaj: 
"  An'  oh !  be  sure  to  fear  the  Lord  alway, 

An'  mind  your  duty,  duly,  morn  an'  night ! 
Lest  in  temptation's  path  ye  gang  astray, 

Liiplore  His  counsel  and  assisting  might : 
hey  never  sought  in  vain  that  sought  the  Lord  aright!' 


.4Sfc  But  hark  !  a  rap  comes  gently  to  the  door  ; 

Jenny,  wha  kens  the  meaning  o'  the  same, 
Tells  how  a  neebour  lad  cam  o'er  the  moor, 

To  do  some  errands,  and  convoy  her  Lame. 
Tlie  wily  mother  sees  the  conscious  flame  » 

Sparkle  in  Jenny's  e'e,  and  flush  her  cheek  ; 
AYi'  heart-struck  anxious  care,  inquires  his  name, 
AVhile  Jenny  hafflins  is  afraid  to  speak  ; 
Weel  pleased  the  mother  hears  it"s  nae  wild,  worthless  rake. 


y 


^^^ 


Wi'  kindly  welcome  Jeniij  l)rings  liim  ben  ; 

A  strappan  youth  ;  Le  takes  the  mother's  eye; 
Blythe  Jenny  sees  the  visit's  no  ill  ta'en  ; 

The  father  cracks  of  horses,  pleughs,  and  kye. 
The  youngster's  artless  heart  overflows  wi'  joy, 

But  blate  an'  laithfu',  scarce  can  weel  behave  ; 
The  mother,  wi'  a  woman's  wiles,  can  spy 

What  makes  the  youth  sae  bashfu'  an"  sae  grave 
Weel  pleased  to  think  her  bairn's  respected  like  the  lav( 


"Tis  when  a  youthful,  loviug,  modest  pair, 

In  other's  arms  breathe  out  the  tender  talc. 
Beneath  the  milk-white  thorn  that  scents  the  ev'ning  gale." 


0  bappj  love !  wliere  love  like  this  is  found! 

O  heart-felt  raptures  !  bliss  beyond  compare  ' 
I've  paced  mucli  this  weary,  mortal  round. 

And  sage  experience  bids  me  this  declare — ■ 
"  If  Heav'n  a  draught  of  hcav'nly  pleasure  spare, 

One  cordial  in  this  nielancholy  vale, 
'Tis  when  a  youtliful,  loving,  modest  pair. 

In  other's  arms  breathe  out  the  tender  tale, 
Beneath  tlie  milk-wliite  tliorn  that  sceuts  the  evening  gale." 


-VM 


_jft  Is  tliere,  in  human  form,  tliiit  l)ears  a  heart — 

A  wretch  !  a  viUaiu  !  lost  to  love  and  trutli ! 
That  can,  with  studied,  sly,  ensnaring  art. 

Betray  sweet  Jenny's  unsuspecting  youth  ? 
Curse  on  liis  perjured  arts  !  dissembling  smooth! 

Are  lionour,  virtue,  conscience,  all  exiled? 
Is  there  no  pity,  no  relenting  I'utli, 

Feints  to  tlie  parents  fondling  o'er  their  child  ? 
Then  paints  the  ruined  maid,  and  their  distraction  wild  ! 


i^,K^ 


W 

■A'^ 


But  now  the  svipper  crowns  tlieir  simple  board. 

The  liealsome  parritcli,  cliief  o'  Scotia's  food  : 
The  soupe  their  only  hawkie  does  afford, 

That  '  yont  the  hallan  snugly  chows  her  cood ; 
The  dame  brings  forth  in  complimental  mood. 

To  grace  the  lad,  her  weel-hain'd  kebbuck,  fell, 
An'  aft  he"s  prest,  an'  aft  he  ca's  it  guid ; 

The  frugal  wifie,  garrulous,  will  tell, 
How  '  twas  a  towmond  auld,  sin'  lint  was  i'  the  bell. 


The  clieerfu'  supper  done,  wi'  serious  face, 

They,  round  the  ingle,  fonn  a  circle  ^vide ; 
The  sire  turns  o'er,  wi'  patriarchal  grace. 

The  big  ha'  P)il)le,  ance  his  father's  pride ; 
His  bonnet  rev'rently  is  laid  aside, 

His  lyart  haffets  wearing  thin  an'  bare  ; 
Those  strains  that  once  did  sweet  in  Zion  glide, 

He  wales  a  jiortion  with  judicious  care  : 
And   "Let  us  worship  God  !"  he  says,  with  solemn  air. 


They  chant  their  artless  notes  in  simple  guise ; 

Thev  tune  their  hearts,  by  I'ar  the  noblest  aim 
Perhaps  Dundee's  wikl  warljhng  measures  rise, 

Or  plaintive  Martyrs,  worthy  of  tlie  name; 
Or  noble  Elgin  beets  the  heavnward  flame, 

The  sweetest  far  of  Scotia's  holy  lays  ; 
Compared  with  these,  Italian  trills  ai'e  tame  ; 

The  tickled  ears  no  heart-felt  rajitures  raise  ; 
Nae  unison  hae  they  with  our  Creator's  praise. 


-">.< 


The  priest -like  futliei  rciid^  tlie  site  red  page. 


The  priest-like  fatlier  reads  tlie  sacred  page, 

How  Abram  was  the  friend  of  God  on  high  , 
Or,  Moses  bade  eternal  ^varfal■e  wage 

With  Amalek's  ungracious  |)r()genv  ; 
Or  how  the  loyal  Bard  did  groaning  lie 

Beneath  the  stroke  of  Heaven's  avenging  ire , 
Or  Job's  pathetic  plaint,  and  wailing  ciy  ; 

Or  rapt  Isaiah's  wild,  seraphic-  fire  ; 
Or  oilier  holy  seers  that  tune  the  sacred  lyre. 


-4© 


Perliaps  the  Christian  volume  is  the  theme, 

How  guiltless  blood  for  guilty  man  was  shed  ; 
How  Pie,  who  bore  in  HeaA'^en  the  second  name, 

Had  not  on  earth  whereon  to  lay  His  head  : 
How  His  first  followers  and  servants  sped  ; 

The  precepts  sage  they  wrote  to  many  a  land : 
How  he,  who  lone  in  Patmos  banished, 

Saw  in  the  sun  a  mighty  angel  stand ; 
And  heard  great  Bab'lon's  doom  pronounced  by  Heaven's 
commund. 


^¥^^1111^ 


Then  kneeling  down,  to  Heavens  Eternal  King, 

The  saint,  the  father,  and  the  husband  prays : 
Hope  "  springs  exulting  on  triumphant  wing,"  * 

That  thus  they  all  shall  meet  in  future  days  ; 
There  ever  bask  in  uncreated  rays, 

ISTo  more  to  sigh,  or  shed  the  bitter  tear, 
Together  hymning  their  Cremator's  praise, 

In  such  society,  vet  still  more  dear ; 
While  circling  Time  moves  round  in  an  eternal  sphere. 


*  Pope's  WiiuLsor  Forest.     R.  13. 


Coni[)ared  with  tins,  how  poor  Eehgion's  pride, 

In  all  the  pomp  of  method,  and  of  art, 
When  men  display  to  congregations  wide 

Devotion's  ev'ry  grace,  except  the  heart ! 
The  Power,  incensed,  the  pageant  will  desert. 

The  pompous  strain,  the  sacerdotal  stole  ; 
But  hapl}^,  in  some  cottage  far  apart. 

May  hear,  well  pleased,  the  language  of  the  soul 
And  in  His  book  of  life  the  inmates  poor  enroll. 


Jkii 


Tho  parent-pair  thr.r  -crrin  1hiiikil:i'  l)a\ , 
And  proflVr  up  to  IU'a\i'u  tlic  warm  request . 


Then  homeward  all  take  off  their  sev'ral  way ; 

The  youngling  cottagers  retire  to  rest : 
The  parent-pair  their  secret  homage  pay, 

And  proffer  np  to  Ileaven  the  warm  request, 
That  He  who  stills  the  raven's  clam'rous  nest, 

And  decks  the  lily  fair  in  flow'ry  pride, 
Would,  in  the  way  Ilis  wisdom  sees  the  best. 

For  them  and  for  their  little  ones  provide  ; 
But  chiefly,  in  their  hearts  with  grace  divine  preside. 


From  scenes  like  these  old  Scotia's  grandeur  springs, 

That  makes  lier  loved  at  home,  revered  abroad : 
Princes  and  lords  are  but  the  breath  of  kings, 

"  An  honest  man  s  the  noblest  work  of  God  :" 
And  certes,  in  foir  Virtue's  heav'nly  road, 

The  cottage  leaves  the  palace  fiir  behind  ; 
What  is  a  lordling's  pomp  ?  a  cundjrous  load, 

Disguising  oft  the  wretch  of  human  kind, 
Studied  in  arts  of  hell,  in  wickedness  refined ! 


O  Thou  !  who  poured  the  patriotic  tide 

That  streamed  through  Walhice's  undaunted  heart; 
Who  dared  to  nobly  stem  tyrannic  pride, 

Or  nobly  die,  the  second  glorious  part, 
(The  patriot's  God,  peculiarly,  Thou  art, 

Ilis  Friend,  Inspirer,  Guardian,  and  Reward  !) 
O  never,  never,  Scotia's  realm  desert ; 

But  still  the  patriot,  and  the  patriot-bard. 
In  bright  succession  raise,  her  ornament  and  guard  ! 


O  Scotia  !  my  dear,  my  nati\-e  soil ! 

For  wliom  my  warmest  wisli  to  Heaven  is  sent ! 
Long  niav  tliy  liardy  sons  of  rustic  toil 

Be  blest  witli  health,  and  peace,  and  sweet  content ! 
And,  oh,  may  Heaven  their  simple  lives  prevent 

From  luxury's  contagion,  weak  and  vile  ! 
Then,  howeer  crowns  and  coronets  be  rent, 

A  virtaous  populace  may  rise  the  while, 
And  stand  a  wall  of  fire  around  their  muchdoved  Isle. 


> 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


41584 


iml?,n°^.'Jll^™,f!E?JO^A.LLIBRARyFACILITY 

AA    o6o"366"729"  2 


-«^ 


